


they are burning the whales

by naruhoe



Category: Dishonored (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Just a drabble, Not much really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 23:18:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5685310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naruhoe/pseuds/naruhoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A drabble inspired by the trailer for Dishonored 2 because I saw wind mills in Serkonos and was like hey ! they must not be using whale oil anymore- what happened to the whales??</p>
            </blockquote>





	they are burning the whales

They are burning the whales.

 

The whales are becoming even rarer, the catches smaller every time the ships come in. Barely calves, not even 2 years old.

 

They are burning the whales. The scientists search for another way to preserve their precious Empire. Another source of fuel to keep their fires burning and their lamps lit. The thing that built their Empire is now hastening its decline.

 

They are burning the whales.

 

The price of whale oil has skyrocketed. The economy is in bad shape, unstable at best. Perhaps 'volatile' would be a better word. A riot nearly broke out two spans ago over a shipment of whale oil. The people are restless.

 

They are burning the whales.

 

Corvo worries for Emily. He wants her reign to be a bright one, yet not even a year into her rule, this problem has reared its head. It wasn't as though it was out of the blue, however. The smart ones like Sokolov and Piero have been predicting this for years now. He should have listened.

 

They are burning the whales.

 

The catches are rare now. One ship in perhaps a hundred brings in a whale, and violent fights break out between crews frequently. Only the rich can afford to buy that precious, glowing liquid now, and even they are forced to limit the time their lights burn into the night.

 

They are burning the whales.

 

The Isles are different. Smoke rises from fires- imagine that. Fires. The common folk burn trees now. The lumber trade has flourished considerably, bringing a small amount of stability to a flailing economy.

 

They are burning the whales.

 

The scientists still work late into the nights, trying to find an alternative source. Corvo knows it isn't for the good of the Isles. They want to be remembered as the one who found the solution, the one who made a crippled Empire great again. He doesn't trust their simpering faces, the airs they put on for the young Empress Emily. Then again, Corvo doesn't trust anyone.

 

The whales are gone.

 

The Outsider knows that there are no more leviathan in these waters. No more great fish to croon their song to the vast, golden moon above the waves. He smirks as he watches the last of the ships comb the sea, for he knows it is in vain. He knows there are no more whales in these waters. None, but for the polished pieces of bone buried deep in the mud that sing their song of a different age when the whales still sang.

**Author's Note:**

> AYEEEEEE DISHONORED 2  
> ( comments and kudos are gr8 ! )


End file.
